Tales and Novels Volume VIII Part 15

His lordship then opened the packet, examined the letters--read and re-directed some to the Duke of Greenwich, others to the king: the abbe, all the time, descanting vehemently on Neapolitan politics--regretting Lord Oldborough's resignation--adverting still to his lordship's powerful influence--and pressing some point in negotiation, for which his uncle, the cardinal, was most anxious.

Among the letters, there was one which Lord Oldborough did not open: he laid it on the table with the direction downwards, leaned his elbow upon it, and sat as if calmly listening to the abbe; but Mr. Percy, knowing his countenance, saw signs of extraordinary emotion, with difficulty repressed.

At length the gesticulating abbe finished, and waited his lordship's instructions.

They were given in few words. The letters re-directed to the king and the Duke of Greenwich were returned to him. He thanked his lordship with many Italian superlatives--declined his lordship's invitation to stay till the next day at Clermont-park--said he was pressed in point of time--that it was indispensably necessary for him to be in London, to deliver these papers, as soon as possible. His eye glanced on the unopened letter.

"Private, sir," said Lord Oldborough, in a stern voice, without moving his elbow from the paper: "whatever answer it may require, I shall have the honour to transmit to you--for the cardinal."

The abbe bowed low, left his address, and took leave. Lord Oldborough, after attending him to the door, and seeing him depart, returned, took out his watch, and said to Mr. Percy "Come to me, in my cabinet, in five minutes."

Seeing his sister on the walk approaching his house, he added, "Let none follow me."

When the five minutes were over, Mr. Percy went to Lord Oldborough's cabinet--knocked--no answer--knocked again--louder--all was silent--he entered--and saw Lord Oldborough seated, but in the att.i.tude of one just going to rise; he looked more like a statue than a living person: there was a stiffness in his muscles, and over his face and hands a deathlike colour. His eyes were fixed, and directed towards the door--but they never moved when Mr. Percy entered, nor did Lord Oldborough stir at his approach. From one hand, which hung over the arm of his chair, his spectacles had dropped; his other hand grasped an open letter.

"My dear lord!" cried Mr. Percy.

He neither heard nor answered. Mr. Percy opened the window and let down the blind. Then attempting to raise the hand which hung down, he perceived it was fixed in all the rigidity of catalepsy. In hopes of recalling his senses or his power of motion, Mr. Percy determined to try to draw the letter from his grasp; the moment the letter was touched, Lord Oldborough started--his eyes darting fiercely upon him.

"Who dares? Who are you, sir?" cried he.

"Your friend, Percy--my lord."

Lord Oldborough pointed to a chair--Mr. Percy sat down. His lordship recovered gradually from the species of trance into which he had fallen.

The cataleptic rigidity of his figure relaxed--the colour of life returned--the body regained its functions--the soul resumed at once her powers. Without seeming sensible of any interruption or intermission of feeling or thought, Lord Oldborough went on speaking to Mr. Percy.

"The letter which I now hold in my hand is from that Italian lady of transcendent beauty, in whose company you once saw me when we first met at Naples. She was of high rank--high endowments. I loved her; how well--I need not--cannot say. We married secretly. I was induced--no matter how--to suspect her fidelity--pa.s.s over these circ.u.mstances--I cannot speak or think of them. We parted--I never saw her more. She retired to a convent, and died shortly after: nor did I, till I received this letter, written on her death-bed, know that she had given me a son.

The proofs that I wronged her are irresistible. Would that they had been given to me when I could have repaired my injustice!--But her pride prevented their being sent till the hour of her death."

On the first reading of her letter, Lord Oldborough had been so struck by the idea of the injustice he had done the mother, that he seemed scarcely to advert to the idea of his having a son. Absorbed in the past, he was at first insensible both to the present and the future.

Early a.s.sociations, long dormant, were suddenly wakened; he was carried back with irresistible force to the days of his youth, and something of likeness in air and voice to the Lord Oldborough he had formerly known appeared to Mr. Percy. As the tumult of pa.s.sionate recollections subsided, as this enthusiastic reminiscence faded, and the memory of the past gave way to the sense of the present, Lord Oldborough resumed his habitual look and manner. His thoughts turned upon his son, that unknown being who belonged to him, who had claims upon him, who might form a great addition to the happiness or misery of his life. He took up the letter again, looked for the pa.s.sage that related to his son, and read it anxiously to himself, then to Mr. Percy--observing, "that the directions were so vague, that it would be difficult to act upon them."

"The boy was sent when three years old to England or Ireland, under the care of an Irish priest, who delivered him to a merchant, recommended by the Hamburg banker, &c."

"I shall have difficulty in tracing this--great danger of being mistaken or deceived," said Lord Oldborough, pausing with a look of anxiety.

"Would to G.o.d that I had means of knowing with certainty _where_, and above all, _what_, he is, or that I had never heard of his existence!"

"My lord, are there any more particulars?" inquired Mr. Percy, eagerly.

Lord Oldborough continued to read, "Four hundred pounds of your English money have been remitted to him annually, by means of these Hamburg bankers. To them we must apply in the first instance," said Lord Oldborough, "and I will write this moment."

"I think, my lord, I can save you the trouble," said Mr. Percy: "I know the man."

Lord Oldborough put down his pen, and looked at Mr. Percy with astonishment.

"Yes, my lord, however extraordinary it may appear, I repeat it--I believe I know your son; and if he be the man I imagine him to be, I congratulate you--you have reason to rejoice."

"The facts, my dear sir," cried Lord Oldborough: "do not raise my hopes."

Mr. Percy repeated all that he had heard from G.o.dfrey of Mr.

Henry--related every circ.u.mstance from the first commencement of them--the impertinence and insult to which the mystery that hung over his birth had subjected him in the regiment--the quarrels in the regiment--the goodness of Major Gascoigne--the grat.i.tude of Mr.

Henry--the attachment between him and G.o.dfrey--his selling out of the regiment after G.o.dfrey's ineffectual journey to London--his wishing to go into a mercantile house--the letter which G.o.dfrey then wrote, begging his father to recommend Mr. Henry to Mr. Gresham, disclosing to Mr.

Percy, with Mr. Henry's permission, all that he knew of his birth.

"I have that letter at home," said Mr. Percy: "your lordship shall see it. I perfectly recollect the circ.u.mstances of Mr. Henry's having been brought up in Ireland by a Dublin merchant, and having received constantly a remittance in quarterly payments of four hundred pounds a year, from a banker in Cork."

"Did he inquire why, or from whom?" said Lord Oldborough; "and does he know his mother?"

"Certainly not: the answer to his first inquiries prevented all further questions. He was told by the bankers that they had directions to stop payment of the remittance if any questions were asked."

Lord Oldborough listened with profound attention as Mr. Percy went on with the history of Mr. Henry, relating all the circ.u.mstances of his honourable conduct with respect to Miss Panton--his disinterestedness, decision, and energy of affection.

Lord Oldborough's emotion increased--he seemed to recognize some traits of his own character.

"I _hope_ this youth is my son," said his lordship, in a low suppressed voice.

"He deserves to be yours, my lord," said Mr. Percy.

"To have a son might be the greatest of evils--to have _such_ a son must be the greatest of blessings," said his lordship. He was lost in thought for a moment, then exclaimed, "I must see the letter--I must see the man."

"My lord, he is at my house."

Lord Oldborough started from his seat--"Let me see him instantly."

"To-morrow, my lord," said Mr. Percy, in a calm tone, for it was necessary to calm his impetuosity--"to-morrow. Mr. Henry could not be brought here to-night without alarming him, or without betraying to him the cause of our anxiety."

"To-morrow, let it be--you are right, my dear friend. Let me see him without his suspecting that I am any thing to him, or he to me--you will let me have the letter to-night."

"Certainly, my lord."

Mr. Percy sympathized with his impatience, and gratified it with all the celerity of a friend: the letter was sent that night to Lord Oldborough.

In questioning his sons more particularly concerning Mr. Henry, Mr.

Percy learnt from Erasmus a fresh and strong corroborating circ.u.mstance.

Dr. Percy had been lately attending Mr. Gresham's porter, O'Brien, the Irishman; who had been so ill, that, imagining himself dying, he had sent for a priest. Mr. Henry was standing by the poor fellow's bedside when the priest arrived, who was so much struck by the sight of him, that for some time his attention could scarcely be fixed on the sick man. The priest, after he had performed his official duties, returned to Mr. Henry, begged pardon for having looked at him with so much earnestness, but said that Mr. Henry strongly reminded him of the features of an Italian lady who had committed a child to his care many years ago. This led to farther explanation, and upon comparing dates and circ.u.mstances, Mr. Henry was convinced that this was the very priest who had carried him over to Ireland--the priest recognized him to be the child of whom he had taken charge; but farther, all was darkness. The priest knew nothing more--not even the name of the lady from whom he had received the child. He knew only that he had been handsomely rewarded by the Dublin merchant, to whom he had delivered the boy--and he had heard that this merchant had since become bankrupt, and had fled to America.

This promise of a discovery, and sudden stop to his hopes, had only mortified poor Mr. Henry, and had irritated that curiosity which he had endeavoured to lull to repose.

Mr. Percy was careful, both for Mr. Henry's sake and for Lord Oldborough's, not to excite hopes which might not ultimately be accomplished. He took precautions to prevent him from suspecting any thing extraordinary in the intended introduction to Lord Oldborough.

There had been some dispute between the present minister and some London merchant, about the terms of a loan which had been made by Lord Oldborough--Mr. Gresham's house had some concern in this transaction; and it was now settled between Mr. Percy and Lord Oldborough, that his lordship should write to desire to see Mr. Henry, who, as Mr. Gresham's partner, could give every necessary information. Mr. Henry accordingly was summoned to Clermont-park, and accompanied Mr. Percy, with his mind intent upon this business.

Mr. Henry, in common with all who were capable of estimating a great public character, had conceived high admiration for Lord Oldborough; he had seen him only in public, and at a distance--and it was not without awe that he now thought of being introduced to him, and of hearing and speaking to him in private.

Lord Oldborough, meanwhile, who had been satisfied by the perusal of the letter, and by Mr. Percy's information, waited for his arrival with extreme impatience. He was walking up and down his room, and looking frequently at his watch, which he believed more than once to have stopped. At length the door opened.

"Mr. Percy, and Mr. Henry, my lord."

Lord Oldborough's eye darted upon Henry. Struck instantly with the resemblance to the mother, Lord Oldborough rushed forward, and clasping him in his arms, exclaimed, "My son!"

Tenderness, excessive tenderness, was in his look, voice, soul, as if he wished to repair in a moment the injustice of years.